Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity (4 page)

"But he's been given his chance!" Doanan howled, swinging Tory around as if all of his strength had suddenly returned. He seized Lannon's arm and yanked him close. "You have a future now, Lannon. You're going to be a great Knight."

Once the celebrating had died down, Tory asked the Knights, "Will you at least stay for dinner? If only to give us more time to say goodbye to Lannon. We won't be seeing him again for a long time."

"She has a point," said Furlus, nudging Cordus. The Grey Dwarf had caught scent of meat boiling on the stove.

Cordus nodded reluctantly.

Doanan uncorked some ale, and the four men sat in the living room and talked until dinner was ready, while Lannon eagerly helped his mother with the preparations. Lannon was having the best time of his life, overflowing with excitement, while his mother seemed conflicted. One moment tears were in her eyes and the next she was laughing at Lannon's poor cooking skills. Lannon's father seemed back to his old health, and he talked sensibly, lacking his usual grim tone. When in his right mind, Doanan was as practical and likable a man as one could meet, laughing and joking with the Knights while he smoked a pipe. They chatted about issues concerning Silverland and Dremlock Kingdom.

At last the table was set. It was not a great feast as far as quality went, but there was plenty of it. Everyone--including Tory--ate until they were stuffed. Halfway through the meal, Lannon's father grew silent, his face darkened by a frown. Tory watched him with a pained, knowing look.

Cordus whispered something to Taris, and then said, "Again, I thank you both for your kindness, but we have stayed too long."

Doanan's eyes narrowed. "I would like a moment alone with my son before he departs with you, Lord Knight. Or is that asking too much?"

"Have your talk," said Cordus, exchanging a quick glance with Taris. "But then Lannon must pack his things. We wish to get in at least a little traveling before dark. Dremlock awaits our return."

Doanan took Lannon out into the clearing, while the Knights tended to their horses. "My son," he said, as he leaned heavily on a cane, "don't worry about me or your mother in the days ahead. We'll make do one way or another. But I've always felt you were destined to be a Knight of the Divine Order."

Lannon searched his father's eyes. He saw the same old fears, but gleaming amongst them was a new light of hope. "Why did you think that, Father?"

Doanan shook his head. "Some things are better left unmentioned for now. This world lies in peril. A great darkness reaches out to take us all. But you can defeat it. As a Knight of Dremlock, you will do many great deeds. I'm certain of it. Once, many years ago, I was shown the truth of things, and it was good in some ways--yet it also changed me for the worse. My mind grew richer, but my will weakened. Then the illness overcame my body and left me a ruined man."

Lannon sighed. "I don't understand. What truth were you shown?" He always hated it when his father spoke cryptically.

"Someday you'll know," said Doanan. "This world is ancient, Lannon--far older than either of us can imagine. A struggle has existed here since the dawn of life, a struggle for food. Things eat other things to survive and grow. The darkness would devour us as well, to fill its belly and become greater. That's the only way I know how to put it."

Doanan's eyes held a crazed, distant look that scared Lannon. The sickness was in his mind again. "The things I feel, Lannon, I hope you never know. It makes my flesh frail and my blood cold to think of it. The horror that awaits us..."

Suddenly Lannon wasn't sure of anything. Did he even want to go forth and be a Knight? Would he have to face the things his father feared so deeply?

Doanan turned away for a moment, and the two stood in silence. When he turned back, a shadow seemed to have fallen over him. "Are you just a selfish boy?" his father said, his face twisting into a bitter expression. "Was I wrong about you? Maybe you're not who I always believed you were, and you should never leave this valley!"

"What are you saying?" Lannon whispered.

"Who will take care of us when you're gone?" said Doanan. "Your mother and I have nothing, Lannon. Look at you--agreeing to abandon us so easily. Where is the deep reluctance I expected? You'll eat off the fat of the land while we go hungry."

"It's not like that, Father," said Lannon, reaching toward Doanan's arm. Doanan flinched away from that touch. "I thought you wanted..." Lannon let his words taper off and swallowed. He lowered his gaze.

"Yes, I wanted you to be a Knight," said Doanan. "Because I believed in you, Lannon. But now you have given me great reason to doubt."

At that moment, Cordus started toward them, leading his horse. "We must hurry, Lannon," the Lord Knight called out sternly. "Pack up what you will, yet try to take only what you need. Food and drink are not necessary, as we have plenty of that. Yet you should bring a blanket. Now be quick about it!"

Lannon hesitated, gazing at his father again. Lannon knew Doanan was not in his right mind, but his father's words still made him feel guilty for leaving.

But Doanan seemed to have regained his senses to some degree, and he gave Lannon a pained smile. "Do as he says, my son. You must listen to Cordus and the other Knights, and not to my pathetic words. The Knights will teach you wisdom. I didn't mean to sound grim or angry. I'm just tired, and my stomach is unsettled. You will have many good things come to you in life. Now go and fulfill your destiny."

Chapter 2: The Bloodlands

Lannon packed quickly. Among the things he took with him were a couple of shabby books he'd read many times throughout his childhood called
Tales of Kuran Darkender
and
The Truth about Goblins
(both by an author named Jace Lancelord). Because books were rare, Lannon's father had paid a considerable sum of money for them back when he was able to work. Neither novel was in good condition, and
The Truth about Goblins
was so old it was on the verge of falling apart, with some of it unreadable. But those two books were Lannon's most prized possessions.

Lannon exchanged goodbyes several times with his parents before he actually got going, and just before he rode off with the Knights, he made his mother promise she would have Grazzal's stable fixed in the near future. Then he went to the old horse and stroked his fur, telling him the good news. Grazzal nibbled at Lannon's fingers, his dark eyes full of whatever wisdom a horse was able to acquire during its lifetime.

All things considered, Lannon parted ways with his parents feeling happier than he'd ever felt in his life. The Knights promised Lannon they would send a White Knight (a specialist in the healing arts) to try to cure his father's illness, which they said was an evil, deadly, and potentially infectious disease of magical origin that would grow more dangerous as time passed. There was no guarantee of success, since Doanan was thoroughly infested with the illness, and even if he was cured, he could suffer a relapse at some point. But it was still a better situation than Lannon had hoped for. And even if Doanan remained ill, his greatest wish had already been granted.

As they rode from the valley, the afternoon sky was grey and featureless, the mist lingering in the lowlands. The Four Lakes, which lay just beyond the northern rim of the valley, were not visible in the fog. Lannon rode with Taris, for the sorcerer was the most slender of the three and had the most room on his horse.
 
As they passed over the hills, the Knights took to arguing about various issues, and Lannon listened with amusement as they went back and forth with their debates. It was different than when his parents argued. It was a jolly sort of bickering between men who seemed to have everything. (This was Lannon's first assumption, but it didn't take him long to realize these Knights faced problems that ran deeper than he could have imagined.)

Riding with the Knights of the Divine Order on his way to a new life of training as a Squire made Lannon almost giddy with delight. He couldn't wait to reach Dremlock Kingdom. Lannon was burning with curiosity to learn more about the skill that had made him a Squire. The thought that he was gifted somehow sent excited shivers down his spine. But he said nothing, figuring the Knights would tell him about his gift when they were ready.

As the afternoon slipped toward evening, they met many travelers on the road. Most were excited to see the famous Knights and stopped to chat, which made Lannon sit tall and proud in the saddle. The Knights always spoke politely, but Cordus made it clear he had no time for small talk--sometimes simply giving a nod and saying "May the Divine Essence warm you, traveler," before galloping on past.

Finally they came to an oaken bridge that crossed the Grey River, beyond which another road branched off leading westward. Lannon had never heard of this river until the Knights mentioned it, and he asked how it had earned such a name.

"It's as grey as Furlus' skin in some spots," Taris answered. "This river flows down from the Goblin Sea, where Foul Brothers go to drown themselves when they're old. Their bodies pile up, and the rotting grey matter is washed down this river."

"Foul Brothers?" said Lannon. "You mean the Goblins that look like us but are actually stupid? I read about them in my book
The Truth About Goblins
."

Taris nodded. "No one knows why they end their lives that way, but it makes parts of this river very unclean."

As they left the bridge behind, keeping to the North Road, the hills began to give way to flatland and farms. Corn and wheat fields were everywhere, and trees were sparse. Overhead, hawks, crows, and vultures wheeled about, sometimes swooping low for a look at them. Once a Goblin Vulture passed over, probably having strayed out of the Bloodlands in search of sheep. It shrieked at them in contempt. Lannon caught a glimpse of its humanoid face, which had bulbous black eyes and a mouth like a bloody gash. He pressed close to Taris. The only Goblins he had ever seen before in real life were Tree Goblins that were too timid to attack anyone but infants (and then only if they had absolutely no chance of being discovered). However, the Knights barely bothered to glance at the winged monster, and with another contemptuous shriek it soared off.

When evening had descended, and the road was becoming lost in the gloom, the Knights finally made camp. They chose a spot next to a cornfield, dug a fire pit, and settled in for the night. Despite the thick clouds, it was a warm and pleasant summer evening for camping in the open. Coyotes howled amid the corn, and bats darted in and out of the firelight. Furlus and Cordus smoked pipes and drank some ale, while Taris seemed to require nothing beyond a few sips of water.

As usual, Taris' face was partially lost in shadows beneath his hood. Lannon kept staring at the sorcerer, pondering his mysteries.

Taris took notice of Lannon's scrutiny. "Why do you gaze at me, lad?"

Lannon was caught off guard and could only shrug.

Taris continued to peer at Lannon from beneath his hood, and the boy began to squirm. The shadows hung about Taris' bright green eyes, contrasting their gleam, and some unseen power seemed to radiate from there. The Birlote’s face, framed by flowing silver hair, was strange and sinister to Lannon. Taris had a hook nose and a pointed chin. He looked somewhat devilish. Lannon couldn’t see Taris’ ears, but he had a feeling they were pointy like his chin.

Taris, who had slipped his boots off to reveal large, muscular feet with sharp toenails, kicked Lannon lightly in the chest and knocked him over. "Enough with your staring, boy!" he hissed.

Trembling, Lannon sat up and apologized.

"The lad is just curious," Furlus muttered, laying down to sleep, "that's all."

"I'm sorry," Lannon said again. "I meant no offense."

"You are forgiven," said Taris. "You have a curious mind, which is typically a good thing. We three are easy going, and you need not be afraid to speak or act freely in our presence." He cleared his throat. "Well, aside from receiving an occasional kick, that is. Yet some Knights of Dremlock--especially those of the High Council--would take great offense if you gazed at them like that. At Dremlock, you must watch your manners at all times, Lannon, or the consequences could be dire."

"I'll be careful," said Lannon. Being a Squire was already sounding much different than he'd always imagined, and part of him wondered just what he was getting himself into. He began to picture rigid Knights glaring at him as he walked the halls, and trials and meetings, and many long days and nights ahead. But he felt surely it had to be fun in some ways too. Just learning swordplay and sorcery alone would be worth putting up with strict Knights and hard work.

Lannon moved back farther from the flames. "Why do we need a fire? It seems warm enough tonight."

"It's a watch fire," said Cordus. "We're not that far from the Middle Bloodlands. Goblins sometimes creep forth in search of victims. They usually avoid towns and farms, but they will sometimes attack travelers camped out in the open. A fire usually keeps them away."

"I thought Goblins never attacked anyone outside the Bloodlands," said Lannon. "I thought they lacked the courage."

"Who told you such nonsense?" said Cordus. "At one time that may have been true. But today Goblins attack people anywhere they choose."

"It's in my book," said Lannon. "
The Truth about Goblins,
by Jace Lancelord." His voice was full of pride.

"Jace Lancelord?" said Taris. "That name is familiar. I remember a Knight named Jace Lancelord, back when I was a young Squire, who was booted out of the order for dabbling with forbidden magic. He had a talent for writing, too. He must be long dead by now--as that was well over a hundred years ago and you humans have such short life spans."

Lannon shrugged, unsure of what to say.

"Let me see that book," said Cordus, frowning. "Jace Lancelord," he mumbled. That was followed by muttered words Lannon couldn't quite hear.

With a trembling hand, Lannon pulled the book from his pack and handed it to Cordus. The Lord Knight flipped through some of the pages, sneering at the crude drawings and simple paragraphs within.

"Undoubtedly the ramblings of a failed Knight," said Cordus. "This book was probably written strictly for profit and not for the good of humanity. Don't believe a word of this, for it could get you killed. Goblins are not to be fooled with. At Dremlock you'll be taught the
real
truth about them."

Shaking his head in disgust, Cordus handed the book back to Lannon. "You would be wise to just toss that in the fire." The Lord Knight curled up in his blanket and turned his back to Lannon. He soon began to snore.

Lannon gazed gloomily at the flames. His father had been proud of those books, and that one was Lannon's favorite. Yet Cordus had acted as if it were less than worthless. He suddenly found himself missing his home and his folks. It was easy to forget the constant arguments that went on between his parents, now that he was no longer at home, and he remembered them in a more pleasant light.

"Don't worry about it, Lannon," said Taris. "Cordus meant no harm. He was simply trying to look after your best interests. May I see the book?"

Lannon handed it over.

Taris flipped through the pages and chuckled. "Though showing no date, I can tell it is very old. Who knows, there could be something worthwhile here--especially if it was written by Jace Lancelord, rest his soul. I remember him as a wise and unpredictable man that sometimes looked too deeply into things he might better have ignored. It's a fine book, Lannon." He handed it back to the lad. "Just keep it out of Cordus' sight."

Smiling, Lannon tucked the book away.

"I'd like to be a sorcerer," said Lannon, speaking on impulse. Taris looked so strange and powerful sitting there in the firelight and shadows. He wondered if Squires got to practice sorcery very often, or if one needed some sort of special qualifications to be taught the ways of magic.

"There are many who would," said Taris, "but it’s not for everyone. You have a different skill than mine. That’s what you need to remember. No matter what trials you face ahead, stay focused on the one talent that made you a Squire. For that talent--called the Eye of Divinity--is as great as any."

"What does the power do?" said Lannon.

"The answer to that question is shrouded in mystery," said Taris. "As far as I know, it works in three stages--
Sight
,
Body
, and something called
Dark Wave
.
Sight
allows you to gain knowledge of things--even secret or guarded knowledge.
Body
creates physical changes upon a person and their surroundings, which can vary greatly depending upon the user.
Dark Wave
, however, is a mysterious force that few have ever gained use of. Little is written about it in the records of Dremlock Kingdom."

"What's the difference between all that and sorcery?" said Lannon.

"There is a key difference," said Taris. "A sorcerer like myself gains power from a source that Birlotes--or
Tree Dwellers
as some call us--refer to as the Webbing. It is the magical barrier that protects our world from the Deep Shadow, or the dark realm of Tharnin. We mold this Webbing--which is neither evil or good--to fit our needs. But the Eye of Divinity unlocks abilities that do not come from the Webbing. In ancient times, sorcerers wielded tremendous powers that came from within--like the Eye of Divinity. But their knowledge vanished with the ages, their secrets buried perhaps forever, and now the definition of a sorcerer is one who either gains neutral power from the Webbing, or evil power from the Deep Shadow."

They did not speak for a time, while Taris tended to the fire. Then the sorcerer sat down closer to Lannon and spoke in a whisper. "I will tell you something, while we have a chance to talk alone, but the others must not know I mentioned it. Dremlock Kingdom lies in peril from within. Certain members of the High Council have been infested with the Deep Shadow--like your father's illness, only even more sinister in nature. That is why we are in such a hurry to get back. Though there are still some on the Council who can be trusted, Dremlock is at greater risk while the three of us are away."

"Then why did you leave the kingdom?" said Lannon. "Why didn't you send someone else?" He was shocked by Taris' words. He would never have imagined that Dremlock--which he'd always believed was the noblest place in the world--could be tainted by evil.

"Only the three of us," said Taris, "have the ability to identify the Eye of Divinity in a subject--or so we thought. You proved us wrong, for had you not read the Sacred Text on that boulder, we would have believed you were just an ordinary lad and might have chosen to look elsewhere. Regardless, we left our kingdom during a time when it gravely needed us there, and we can only hope that disaster has not befallen it. I'm telling you this so you'll understand that not everyone at Dremlock can be trusted. Take care, Lannon."